Chapter XXVII: Letter 21: Manchester, January 7, 1796. My dear Friend,

I arrived at Manchester last night from Sheffield, to which place I shall only send about thirty numbers. I might have succeeded there, at least equally well with the former towns, but I should injure the sale of the "Iris", the editor of which paper, (a very amiable and ingenious young man of the name of James Montgomery)[1] is now in prison for a libel on a bloody-minded magistrate there. Of course I declined publicly advertising or disposing of "The Watch man" in that town.

This morning I called on Mr. -------- with H.'s letter. Mr. --------- received me as a rider, and treated me with insolence that was really amusing from its novelty. "Overstocked with these articles. "---------" People always setting up some new thing or other. "---------" I read the "Star" and another paper: what could I want with this paper, which is nothing more?"--"Well, well, I'll consider of it." To these entertaining "bons mots" I returned the following repartee--"Good morning, Sir." * * *

God bless you, S. T. C.

[Footnote 1: The Poet, 1771-1854.]

Mr. C. went to Liverpool and was as successful there as elsewhere generally in procuring subscribers to "The Watchman". The late Dr. Crompton found him out, and became his friend and patron. His exertions, however, at Liverpool were suddenly stopped by news of the critical state of Mrs. C.'s health, and a pressing request that he would immediately return to Bristol, whither Mrs. C. had now gone from Clevedon. Coleridge accordingly gave up his plan of visiting London, and left Liverpool on his homeward trip. From Lichfield he wrote to Mr. Wade the following letter: